


Thriller Night

by runicmagitek



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Crack, Friendship, Gen, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Humor, Implied Femslash, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 19:28:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5061103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runicmagitek/pseuds/runicmagitek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world might need saving, but who can deny a group of heroes from taking a night off for some seasonal shenanigans?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thriller Night

It all started back on the Blackjack. Setzer couldn’t remember the last time he was able to indulge with another man over not only engineering and ladies, but also the various fabrics he came to love. Edgar was a good sport for such conversations, often leaving someone else in the group to steer them back onto the task at hand. Even with well over a year separating the two, they picked up where they left off.

Though the shared passion transformed into bickering, which then slipped into a constant competition of who had better taste. Edgar stuck by Figaro’s signature looks, complete with billowing silks and hand embroidered details lined with exquisite beading. For Setzer, he was convinced nothing could beat Jidoor’s lavish avant garde styles, for layers and structure paired with the right accessories always turned heads. The rest of the group inched away while the two butted heads. Edgar and Setzer never came to a consensus, either.

Until someone mentioned Hallow’s Eve approaching and the town of Tzen was celebrating with the traditional costume festival.

As if on cue, Setzer eyed Edgar, who was already smirking at him.

“Don’t even think about it,” Setzer told his friend.

“What? Of dressing up?”

“No, of believing you’ll out do me.”

Edgar roared in amusement. “Nonsense! We both know who will be the winner. Might as well make it official.”

Setzer bit back a grin. “Just don’t come running to me for a Curaga when you’ve fallen from your high chocobo.”

After returning to their respective towns, Setzer and Edgar acquired costumes for the festivities. To their surprise, the others showed interest in joining the celebration. From there, the Falcon sped off to Tzen and docked along the plains while everyone prepared for the evening.

In a sense, Setzer’s costume was no different from what he wore on a regular basis. His favorite seamstress still offered her wares, despite the state the world was in. For a pretty gil, she assembled Setzer’s outfit. The old tales of pirates wandering the seas in search of treasure and excitement were reserved for operas than reality, but Setzer couldn’t say no to the extravagant jacket, knee-high boots, and grandiose hat, complete with a plume. The reds, blacks, and browns mixed well together along the leather and fine cotton. Setzer even changed out his usual earrings and rings for an assortment of gold and rubies. Glancing in the mirror, he smirked over the guise and headed down into the main foyer.

Edgar was already there - by no means a surprise to Setzer - fidgeting in place while supposedly waiting for everyone. Setzer, however, raised an eyebrow over something other than Edgar’s antics. The royal man donned a cloak over an old suit that made the fashions in Zozo seem appealing. Setzer made little sense of it; what was the point of dressing up if no one could figure out what you were?

“Dare I ask what you are supposed to be?” Setzer called out while descending the stairs.

Edgar spun around to face Setzer. “Are you mocking me?”

Squinting, Setzer swore there was... something _wrong_ with Edgar’s front teeth. “No, quite serious, actually.”

Then Edgar grinned, flashing the elongated canines. “I’ll give you a hint! If I were truly this creature, I’d be on the hunt for some blood this evening!”

“Last I checked, a mosquito doesn’t wear a cheap suit.”

“What?! A mos-” Edgar looked himself over, as if to confirm he wasn’t a pesky insect after all. “I’m a vampire!”

Setzer snickered. “So it _is_ a cheap suit then?”

“ _Shush you_! I’ll have you know this is made by Figaro’s own personal tailor! The best of the best!” He waved a hand at Setzer. “It’s better than what you have on!”

“At least people know what I am.”

“It looks like what you wear _all_ the time!”

“As much as I’d fancy a proper captain’s hat, this is _quite_ counterintuitive for piloting the Falcon.”

A shuffle of feet echoed from the upper level. Both the men craned their heads back to eye the figure darting down the steps, covered in a single, white sheet. Setzer blinked in confusion over the sad attempt at the costume, but at least it was recognizable in comparison to Edgar’s sad attempt. As the body approached them, the cartoonish face on the front of the white fabric came into view.

The head tilted down and up to size up Setzer. “Well now. Here I was thinking you couldn’t get any fancier with your usual jacket, Captain Gabbiani.”

Setzer grinned. “There’s more up my sleeves, Locke.”

After a bout of chuckling, Locke tossed the sheet up to properly face the other two. “Yeah yeah. Big surprise there. Nice hat, at least.”

“Don’t think about stealing it.”

He glared at Setzer. “Uh, excuse me? That’s _rude_.”

“If I see a ghost walking around with a pirate’s hat and I’m missing mine-”

Locke grinned. “Hey now! Don’t be knocking on the pirate ghost! That’s a thing!” He snickered for a moment before turning to Edgar. “The hell are _you_?”

Setzer almost choked on his spit over the glare Edgar shot Locke.

“A _vampire_ ,” Edgar explained with a straight face.

Locke cocked his head. “A _what_?”

“Oh, for the love of-” He smacked his face. “Didn’t your mother ever read you bedtime stories?!”

“Well, _yeah_ , but they sure as hell weren’t about creepy dudes in cheap suits with bad teeth.”

“What?! For your information, _Locke_ , I crafted these myself! They’re implants!”

“Yeah. Uh huh. _Sure_.”

Edgar spun on his heels to eye Setzer. “I don’t want to hear a _damn_ word from you.”

Even with biting his cheeks, Setzer couldn’t resist the slight smirk. “Did I say anything?” He shook his head and threw his hands up. “Not a word, my friend.”

Scoffing, Edgar returned his attention to Locke. “And not another word from _you_ , either.”

Locke shrugged. “Hey, not my problem I can’t tell what you are. At least people know what I am.”

Edgar rolled his eyes. “Less tactful than _my_ costume.”

“A ghost,” Setzer added for good measure.

“See?!” Locke gestured to Setzer. “He gets it!” And he threw the sheet back over his head. “I got this thing down!”

“For a bed sheet,” Setzer quipped, “it’s not bad.”

The cartoon face turned to Setzer. “Damn straight. Swiped it from Edgar’s bed, too, when we were in-”

“ _What_?!” Edgar was anything short of amused.

“Look,” Locke explained, “I needed something quick and I didn’t know what else to do and the cotton was pretty nice, so.... I mean, you’re not going to miss it, right?” Edgar clenched his shaking hands. “Oh, _come on_ , it’s _one_ sheet! Better than what you have.”

“It is,” Setzer agreed.

“Not helping!” Edgar said.

“What are you boys making such a fuss about down there?”

All of them peered above. Dangling over the railing was Terra, wearing all black with a massive, pointed hat on top of her head. She flashed a smile and giggled while making her way down to the foyer. The petticoat dress was lined with white trim and accented with black and white striped stockings and a pair of boots. Terra held a broomstick in her hand and bounced over to the others.

“Setzer!” she called out. “Your hat! I love it! The feather is so pretty!”

To that, he removed the hat to sweep into a bow before Terra. “Not quite as lovely as yours, little witch.”

She beamed and tugged on her hat. “It’s not too much, is it?”

“Not at all.”

“And I love yours, too, Locke!” She stepped closer to him, smiling over the face confronting her. “That’s really clever.”

Setzer imagined Locke was grinning underneath. “You know what’s really clever? That I swiped it from-”

Then Edgar cleared his throat far louder than necessary and Locked dropped the topic. The king crossed his arms and stared at him, leaving Terra to examine Edgar’s outfit. Setzer watched the exchange, waiting for the realization to strike the young lady. Instead, Terra’s eyes stayed stoic, only blinking on occasion.

They all waited in silence. Then Terra cocked her head. “I don’t get it.”

One of Edgar’s eyes twitched. “Don’t get _what_?”

“Um... are you supposed to be... a butler or something?”

Now both eyes twitched. “ _What_?”

Setzer had to turn away, fearing he couldn’t hide his grin. As for Locke, he held no restraint in his emotions as he cracked up.

“Vampire!” Edgar explained. “I’m a _vampire_!”

Terra perked up. “Oh! Okay!” Then she paused. “...what’s that? Is it supposed to be funny?”

“No! Of course-”

“Then why is Locke laughing?”

Edgar whipped his head to Locke. “Will you _shut up_?!”

The sheet was discarded and Locke pressed his back into a wall while smacking his thigh. “Oh _gods_! That is just rich!” He snorted. “You’re a butler!”

“I will _bite_ you.”

“With those fake teeth? Pffff, I’d like to see you try.”

Terra furrowed her brow. “Edgar! Don’t bite him! It’s _mean_!”

After a flustered bout of stammering and flailing, Edgar regained partial composure. “Mean?! These two are the ones being mean to me!”

Setzer raised a finger. “ _I_ didn’t say a word.”

“Good! Then continue to do so!” Edgar grumbled to himself. “Still better than a pirate.... _I_ _’ll_ steal your stupid hat-”

“I _heard_ that.”

Ignoring the men, Terra turned to the stairs and grinned. “Oh, there you are! I was starting to think you weren’t going to come out!”

Setzer didn’t intend to stare, but it was hard not to. Though to be fair, he also had enough class to not whistle the way Locke was while Celes descended the stairs to meet them. The blonde, like Terra, wore black, though in the form of a corset, leather pants, and buckled boots. A set of golden filigree covered each fingertip in the form of claws. Around her throat was a choker containing a bell, across her face was a half mask, and atop her head was a headband sporting feline ears.

Terra rushed over to meet Celes with awe glittering in her eyes. “Celes, you look magnificent!”

She twisted her hands over one another. “I look _ridiculous_.”

“Nonsense!” Terra slipped an arm around Celes’ and guided her to the group. “I love it.”

“Of course you do.”

“It is a rather daring ensemble,” Setzer said, taking the opportunity to gloss his eyes over her. She could smack him later; it would be worth it. “One could get used to you like this.”

“ _Oh_ yeah, I second that motion,” Locke blurted out.

Setzer expected Terra to glare, but he didn’t foresee her marching over to bop Locke on the head with the end of her broom. For that, Setzer laughed.

“What the hell?!” Locke rubbed the top of his head. “ _He_ started it! Gods forbid if I agree!”

“She’s _mine_! Don’t you be getting any ideas!”

“For the love of... go whack _him_ , too, while you’re at it!” And Locke gestured to Setzer.

Terra simply walked back to Celes. “I don’t want to knock off his hat.”

While Locke glowered, Setzer grinned. “See? Ladies love the hat. No stealing it, thief.” Before Locke blew up over that, he looked back to Celes and Terra. “But I meant what I said; you look well, Celes, and paired with Terra? Quite the match.”

Terra puffed up in delight while clinging to Celes. “A witch can’t go anywhere without her kitty!” Then she shot a look at Edgar. “And no commentary from you, either.”

“What?! I didn’t say a _damn_ -”

“But she is _my_ kitty.”

Terra flicked a finger across Celes’ bell. A gentle chime filled the room and left Celes slightly perplexed. Before she could protest, Terra reached up to scratch the top of Celes’ head and the blonde smiled along with releasing a coo similar to a purr. Setzer couldn’t help but smile - she was happy. Even if it wasn’t his doing, at least she had someone to make it a reality for her.

As Celes calmed down after Terra’s attention, she settled her eyes upon Edgar. Once again silence sifted in and Setzer noted Edgar’s stiff posture, far more on guard than in a defensive stance in combat. Celes pursed her lips and blinked at him.

“So,” she began slowly, “are you-”

“ _Vampire_ ,” Edgar spat out, beyond reluctant.

His answer deepened her perplexed expression. “Wait, are you serious?”

He sighed and threw his hands up in the air. “Why wouldn’t I be?! You think I _wouldn_ _’t_ take this seriously?!”

Celes shifted her weight and perched a hand upon her hip. “I have a _tail_ coming out of my pants. You think I take myself seriously, let alone everyone else?”

“...wait, there’s a _tail_?”

“I have _claws_ , too, Edgar. And they _work_.”

While the two bickered, Setzer took a headcount of who was present. “Is that all of us?”

Locke pushed himself off of the wall and double checked. “Yeah, I think so. Cyan had zero interest and Strago mentioned something about taking Relm and Gau out for trick-or-treating.”

“And Shadow?”

“Wow, _really_? You expect me to keep tabs on that guy?”

Terra pouted. “But we _are_ missing someone. We don’t have-”

The guttural roar of an engine revving up caught everyone’s attention. Walking down into the main foyer was their missing piece. Setzer recognized the trademark blue armor worn by Figaro’s military. The cloak looked like something out of Edgar’s closet, though the white mask and chainsaw? There was no mistaking that and Setzer clamped a hand over his mouth to contain his amusement.

As the chainsaw died down, Sabin moved the mask on top of his head to flash a grin to the group. “Hey! Sorry for holding everyone up! Had trouble getting the armor on and all. A little too small on me, but eh, what are you going to do?”

Setzer - along with the rest of the group - whipped his attention over to Edgar, who was teetering on the fine line separating rage and hysteria.

“What are you doing?!” Edgar screamed at his twin.

Sabin, however, was not fazed. “Huh?”

“Where did you get that?!”

“Which part? I mean, the armor was easy. Just asked one of the guards-”

“No, you dope!” Marching over to Sabin, Edgar jabbed fingers at the mask. “You stole these!”

Locke raised a hand. “Hey now, I _didn_ _’t_ help.”

Sabin just shrugged. “Well, _yeah_. I kind of had to! Wasn’t about to ask you to make me new ones for the costume.”

“ _What_ costume?!”

“Oh, isn’t it obvious?” Sabin grinned, slid the mask back onto his face, and cranked the chainsaw motor. He swung it carefully in the air before spinning around, showing off the blue ribbon in his short ponytail. “I’m _you_!”

If only Relm was around to paint Edgar’s priceless portrait right then.

“...you’re _kidding_ me,” Edgar muttered.

“But it’s good, right?!” Once the chainsaw calmed down, Sabin placed it on his shoulder. In his pause, he looked over Edgar. “Though, yeesh! What the hell are _you_ supposed to be?”

Everyone in the room held their breath.

Sabin pinched at the loose material. “Where did you pick this out? In one of the armoires in the basement? Oh _gods_ , don’t tell me it’s Grandpa’s.” He squinted into Edgar’s eyes. “You’re dressed up as Grandpa, aren’t you? Do you have _any_ imagination?”

Locke was rolling on the floor, repeatedly slamming a fist into it. Terra dissolved into a fit of giggles while Celes chewed on her lip to stop herself from doing the same. As for Setzer, he brought his hands up to slowly clap over the performance taking place between the two brothers.

Once the shock washed away from Edgar, his brow furrowed and he hunched before his brother and clawed his hands in the air. “Vampire.” Then he billowed out his cape. “ _Vampire._ ” And finally pointed at his false canines. “ _Vampire_! For the love of the _gods_ , what is _wrong_ with you people?!”

Sabin tilted his head. “Wait, seriously?”

Now Celes was cracking up.

“ _How_ are we _related_?!” Edgar groaned and flailed at Sabin.

“Hey! Hey Edgar!” Sabin nestled right up to his twin. “Hey hey! Guess what! So if I’m _you_ , I get to be the _lady killer_ for the evening right? _Right_?” He elbowed his twin in the side. “Get it?” He swung the chainsaw around. “Lady killer? Because you-”

“ _I get it, you twit._ ”

Sabin puffed out his already massive chest. “Aw yeah! Watch out, ladies! Fake Edgar is in town! Come on! Let’s head out before all the food gets cold!”

Terra chimed in with the mention of food, hot on Sabin’s trail. Of course, she beckoned for her kitty to tag along and Celes sauntered on behind - and yes, she did have a tail peeking out from her pants. Locke jumped to his feet, albeit out of breath, and threw his disguise on to follow. As their voices echoed in the distance, Setzer approached Edgar’s side with a dash of both amusement and caution.

“Well then,” he said, “either we can agree that I won in our little game... or we can call it a draw, seeing that Sabin _clearly_ -”

“Damnit, Gabbiani, not a word out of you!”

After snickering, he leaned into Edgar and grinned. “Oh, don’t be a sore loser. Come along. We shouldn’t miss out on the festivities. Gods know when the next time we’ll have a chance for something like this again.”

Edgar heaved out a sigh. “I suppose.”

“That’s the spirit!” Setzer walked alongside his friend, still chuckling on and off. “You know, I _do_ know an _excellent_ seamstress in Jidoor-”

“Bite me.”

“I don’t need fake teeth to do that, you know.”

“Just as I don’t need a fake hand to do this.”

Edgar flipped Setzer off, who in turn roared over the sight.

While the Falcon fell silent, the amusement lived on elsewhere. Despite the earlier annoyances, everyone’s muscles relaxed and thoughts of the world further slipping into ruin vanished. For one night, they could be something else. Setzer traded hats with Terra briefly during the celebration, Locke swiped the chainsaw from Sabin before a fuming Edgar chased him down, and Celes scratched up enough strangers to let them know Terra was off the market.

As the evening dwindled down, Edgar plopped down beside Setzer, both of them exhausted from both the festivities and the alcohol consumption. “I think we can call this night a success.”

Setzer nodded. “Finally, something we can agree on.”

And Edgar cracked a smile. “Figaro still has finer wares.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Perhaps next year when we do this, we’ll see who’s right.”

Setzer shifted in his seat to eye his friend. “Is that a challenge I hear, good sir?”

“Are you not the gambling type?”

And Setzer just grinned.


End file.
